


If You Can't Take the Heat

by CelticKnot



Series: Mass Effect Fictober 2019 [24]
Category: Mass Effect - All Media Types
Genre: Fictober 2019, Gen, Humor, MEFFictober2019
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-24
Updated: 2019-10-24
Packaged: 2021-01-02 14:09:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 512
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21162926
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CelticKnot/pseuds/CelticKnot
Summary: MEFFictober Prompt: apple cider. Commander Shepard has a lot of skills. Cooking isn't one of them.





	If You Can't Take the Heat

Mess Sergeant Rupert Gardner was always out of his bunk by 0400 to start preparing breakfast for the crew. He didn't mind getting up early--he kind of liked the quiet in the morning. No sound but the faint hum of the engines and the clattering of his own utensils.

Dr. Chakwas usually got up next. Gardner always had a cup of strong coffee ready for her, for which she always thanked him warmly before retreating to the med bay. Vakarian would come along soon after, bleary-eyed and cranky, to fix a cup of whatever dreck passed for coffee among turians. Krios and Shepard had started showing up together lately, sparking no end of gossip among the crew. Kasumi would pop in whenever she saw fit, usually whenever Jacob was around. As the morning wore on, the mess hall would grow louder and busier as the crew took a few minutes to eat and socialize before getting down to work. Gardner kind of liked that, too.

But today was different. Gardner arrived in the galley at his usual zero-dark-thirty to find the lights already on, the pantry doors flung wide open, and a strange smell emanating from a pot on the stove. And somebody was bent over behind the counter, digging through the cabinet for God only knew what. And making a mess, by the sound of it.

Gardner did not like that at all.

He scowled. "What the hell is goin' on here?"

There was a bang and a yelp as the intruder smacked their head on the inside of the cabinet. They swore, and Gardner recognized the voice before they stood. "Oh, Commander Shepard. Wasn't expecting you at this hour."

Shepard chuckled and surveyed the mess ruefully, still rubbing her head. "Yeah, me neither. My midnight craving turned into a way bigger project than I expected."

"Well, I gotta get breakfast started, but if you want some help after…" Gardner peered into the pot and frowned. "What the hell are you tryin' to make?"

Already replacing lids on various bottles of seasonings, Shepard said, "Spiced apple cider. My dad used to make it all the time. But apparently, I've forgotten what he put in it."

"And you're goin' about it all wrong, anyhow." Gardner shut off the stove and grimaced at the liquid in the pot. "You want to use whole spices, not ground ones. Smash 'em up a little and float 'em in a cheesecloth bag. And for God's sake, simmer it, don't boil it." He shrugged. "Shit, gimme a few minutes to get food going, and I'll make you the best damn cider you've had in your life."

"I humbly defer to your expertise," said Shepard with a grin. "Want some help?"

Gardner held up his hands. "With all due respect, Commander--how can I put this diplomatically-- _ hell no, get out of my galley." _

Shepard laughed out loud. "Fair enough, Sergeant. I deserved that." She put the last few spices back in the pantry and shut the door. "I'll leave you to it. See you for breakfast."


End file.
